


Starmakers

by Sequesters



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley Was a Starmaker Before Falling, Gen, M/M, Unsure if i will continue this one, drunk ranting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-12-01 23:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sequesters/pseuds/Sequesters
Summary: Crowley rants about his old starmaking job, and Aziraphale asks a question.





	Starmakers

It began, as things like this usually did, with a drunken conversation.

And it was a DRUNKEN conversation. They had passed deepest-darkest-fears drunk, vaulted over Aziraphale-admitting-he-wasn’t-overly-fond-of-babies drunk, run right by Crowley-admitting-he-liked-performing-blessings drunk, and were solidly staring down the third bottle of Crowley-discussing-his-life-before-the-Fall drunk.

More specifically, he was COMPLAINING about it.

“Y-you don’t UNDERSTAND, angel,” Crowley was slurring, missing the glass with the wine as he poured himself another, “There’s a METHOD, it’s like…like baking a cake!”

“Mmmm, cake,” sighed Aziraphale dreamily.

“Ya gotta have the-the-th-the-“ Crowley stuttered like a broken record until he mentally righted the needle, “The _ingredients,_ just so, or the whole thing will collapse on itself, and BOOM!” Crowley explained.

“Boom,” echoed Aziraphale, eyes unfocused.

“Raphael. You know Raphael? ‘Course you know Raphael, ev’rybody up there knows Raphael,” Crowley slurred, waving his glass around, “Raphael used to _piss me off._”

“I thought Raphael was a healer,” mused Aziraphale, just barely keeping up.

“Raphael used to just FLING the hydrogen, and-and helium, and…_whateverthefuckelse_ together and CSSSSSRSHBDLSJ-“ Crowley flung his own hands together while making a noise that human consonants could never truly do justice, “SEE what happens!”

He dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you even BELIEVE that?? There’s a RATIO, angel!! A RATIO!! Then, they would have the GALL to complain about why their neb-nebula-nebulae, never did anything INTERESTING!! It’s because the FOUNDATION of the very thing is all cocked up!!!”

“MMMhhmmm,” said Aziraphale, drawing the sound out to make it seem like he had comprehended all of what Crowley had said.

“They just had no STYLE,” grumbled Crowley, taking another drink.

Aziraphale sighed contentedly, looking fondly over at the demon on his sofa.

“It sounds like you were doing what you loved,” Aziraphale said.

All of the ire drained out of Crowley at that, leaving him looking very old, and very tired.

“I was,” he admitted, sinking ever deeper into the sofa, “I _was_.”

“W-what if…what if…” Aziraphale took a moment to organize his thoughts, “You know, you’re not connected to Hell anymore, and they don’t _care_ what you do, could you still-“

“Nah, angel,” Crowley said, trying to sound nonchalant, “The ability to manipulate the heavens burned away along with my connection to God’s love.”

Aziraphale fell silent.

Crowley looked down into his glass.

“One of those lovely perks of being cast out of Heaven,” he mumbled.

Aziraphale took some time to awkwardly stare down at the carpet, which was certainly looking a lot fuzzier than usual.

“I’ve always _wanted _to know more about starmaking,” Aziraphale said, quietly.

“Oh, you don’t want to get me started on that,” Crowley said quickly, “Not-not when I’m _sober_, of all things. I’ll just end up talking your ear off, or…orcryingaboutit,” he muttered, taking a drink to soothe the honesty.

And with his next sip, Aziraphale hit the next stage of drunk, the stage that he had never, ever reached before.

It was called Aziraphale-asks-the-one-question-he-swore-he-would-never-ask drunk.

“No, no, I…I want to learn _how_. Would you teach me?”

Crowley’s jaw dropped.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for eternity.

“S-sober up,” Crowley finally croaked, in a strangled voice, “Sober up, right _now._”

With the alcohol out of their systems, the room SIZZLED with regret, from every side.

“Oh, if-if it brings back memories of-“ Aziraphale babbled, “If it’s too much-please, forget I even asked-“

“You want me…to teach you? How to make _stars_?” Crowley interrupted, an incredulous look still painting his face.

Aziraphale stuttered incoherently in his attempt to backtrack, but in the crackling aura of Crowley’s sheer intensity, he could only slump down and nod honestly.

“But really, my dear, I can just go look up how it’s done in one of the old angelic TOMES that I have, I’m sure it’s somewhere, Crowley please I’m sorry-“

Crowley held up a hand. “No,” he said slowly, “It’s…I think…”

He cocked his head to the side, as if coming to a surprising conclusion.

“I think…it’s a good idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I might continue with this one, might not, but either way, here you go.


End file.
